


five days

by chopinseimei



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, End of the World, F/F, M/M, aka pre olys 2022 season, i mean.. literally everyone dies, minor boyang/nathan, takes place 2020-2021 season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chopinseimei/pseuds/chopinseimei
Summary: EMERGENCY ALERT:A surprise discovery by scientists has reported that a meteor, suggested to be up to 2x larger than planet Earth, will hit in approximately FIVE DAYS. Scientists are trying hard to find a means of defense, but as of yet there are none. Find SAFE AREAS UNDERGROUND to shelter, remain calm, and if possible DO NOT LEAVE UNTIL THE FIVE DAYS HAVE PASSED.’And that's the beginning of the end.





	five days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> silver linings getting lost

Yuzuru’s in gala practice, talking to Wakaba and Evgenia at the side of the rink when it happens.

They’d all been practicing, goofing around. Yuzuru had been in high spirits following a successful win; a strong GP circuit in the build-up to the Olympic season. Shoma had been second, both skates phenomenal save for a minor mistake or two, and Boyang had gleefully clutched his bronze medal to his chest during the medal ceremony. Evgenia had settled for silver behind Wakaba, who’d pulled into a surprising lead after her somewhat lackluster short program. Alina’s short program had put her in dead last, and though her redemption was impressive she’d only beaten out Satoko for 3rd by a fraction of a point.

But the competition had been, overall, fun. Yuzuru remembers- just a few seasons ago- watching the final bitterly. Of course, he was cheering for his teammates, squinted angrily at his laptop screen as if that would remove the time deduction Shoma had gotten and _put him in first, goddamnit,_ had sent congratulations to most of the medalists in singles (except the Russians. They’re.. oddly cryptic.) But still bitter at his missed opportunity.

And even now, two years later, Yuzuru still hates that he'd missed this; enjoying the extra time with his friends, teasing Evgenia when she’d stumbled over herself while talking to Alina, pushing Shoma out into the group to actually _talk._

Until, inevitably, something bad happens, in the form of everybody’s phones going off at the exact same time.

Yuzuru, puzzled, assumes it’s just a group chat that he’d ignored and had blown up again, and doesn’t check. But Evgenia and Wakaba look back up at him, concerned, and tell him with tight voices to check as well, make sure they aren’t seeing things. Yuzuru unlocks his phone to see concerned messages from his sister and father in Japan, a text from Brian that he’d ignored a few hours ago, and a message-

_‘EMERGENCY ALERT:_

_A surprise discovery by scientists has reported that a meteor, suggested to be up to 2x larger than planet Earth, will hit in approximately FIVE DAYS. Scientists are trying hard to find a means of defense, but as of yet there are none. Find SAFE AREAS UNDERGROUND to shelter, remain calm, and if possible DO NOT LEAVE UNTIL THE FIVE DAYS HAVE PASSED.’_

Everything seems to slow down.

Shoma, mid-conversation with Mihoko and Satoko, is staring down at his phone with wide eyes and the others peering over his shoulder, concerned. Alina and Mikhail are talking, hushed and tinged with worry. A group of the ice dancers gathered together are talking in fast-paced English that Yuzuru doesn’t care to make out. And Wakaba and Evgenia are staring at him, as if somehow Yuzuru should know what to do, as if this didn’t come just as sudden to him as it did to them, and suddenly he feels awfully sick.

“I- that’s- that’s not true, right?” Yuzuru says to Wakaba in Japanese, because English just isn’t coming to him right now. In the corner of his eye his spots some of the others skating over, Alina clinging to an equally as shaken Mikhail’s arm. He already feels overwhelmed.

“Yuzu, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Shoma takes Yuzuru by surprise, but his soft voice and subtle tug to get him away from the crowd is a slight comfort. He doesn’t know if he can handle everyone else’s voices right now, all flooding over him in blurry waves, everyone starting to slowly crowd around eachother in a cluster of concerned half-hugs and comforting pats on the back.

“I-” Yuzuru takes a shaky breath, just to calm himself. He glides back a little, away from the crowd of skaters. “I don’t _know-_ did you get that text thing too?”

“Yeah, I- do you think it might be a mistake?” Shoma quickly flashes his phone screen at the older skater, which shows the same message still displayed on his own phone. “I mean, it’s happened before, right..?” Yuzuru shakes his head; that had been on a smaller scale, and it hadn’t been as.. detailed. And if this was some sort of joke or experiment, then it’s sick. He could explain all of this to Shoma, but he doesn’t know if he has it in him to keep his voice stable. Because he doesn’t know what’s going on, doesn’t have any sort of control over this situation, and he’s _scared._

Thankfully, a voice booms over the chatter of all the other skaters. It’s some official that Yuzuru doesn’t recognise standing at the side of the rink and motioning for everyone to come over.

“Skaters,” the official begins, stiff. “we have decided that, in light of recent events and concerns for your safety, we will be moving you into a bunker where you will be safe. You have two hours to go to your hotel rooms and gather your things before staff come to escort you to the area. All practices and events are cancelled until further notice. Thank you.” the official hardly gives any time for questions, scurrying off just a few moments after finishing his obviously scripted speech.

But for Yuzuru, it happens all too slowly, and even as the other skaters start making their ways out of the rink with hushed chatter, he can’t find it in him to move. Shoma is still next to him, and Satoko awkwardly lingers nearby.

“Yuzu, hey.” Shoma murmurs, touch feather-light on his back. For maybe the first time in years, Yuzuru forgets how to move on the ice, forgets about the rink around him, and _slips._

Shoma catches him with a worried noise, arms firm around him. And Yuzuru kind of wants to stay here forever, everything in slow motion, safe and sound in Shoma’s arms, pretending that _this isn’t happening. This isn’t happening._

“We.. should probably leave. Go get our stuff.” Shoma still has one hand guiding Yuzuru forward, the other motioning for Satoko to go on. She nods, skating off with shaking legs, while Yuzuru kind of just.. floats along. Can’t feel much of anything save for the haze surrounding his mind, the chilled air around him that leaves his skin with a faint sting. And if he tries hard enough, he can just feel the warmth of Shoma’s hand on his back, but it’s faint.

He feels.. numb.

* * *

Shoma’s light and somewhat awkward chatter falls on deaf ears, because all Yuzuru can focus on as they start walking back to the hotel is biting back tears.

This is how he’s meant to be. How the media perceives him, why his teammates look up to him. He’s calculative; calm in the face of a thousand prying eyes and competition creeping up on him. Shielding himself from cameras and invasive questions with a carefully crafted wall, cracks smothered by innocuous interviews and whatever image the media’s painted for him.

And he can’t let it break. Not now. Not for the five days he has left on this damn planet.

But Shoma glances at him, eyes glimmering and reflecting Yuzuru’s own pathetic expression in soft brown pools, and the way Yuzuru’s shaky hands clutch at the other’s jacket sleeve is just the cold, he swears.

* * *

“Yuzu..” Shoma starts, as they’re beginning to pack up their things. “Are- you okay? I mean, I asked before and stuff but- um, the way here you were.. off.. and I-” he abruptly curses, bending over to pick up something he’d dropped. He shoves it into his bag, muttering about how he probably doesn’t even need it now anyway.

And truthfully, Yuzuru isn’t fine. A whole path ahead of him, a future he’d imagined too many times in the past twenty years, another Olympic gold and more records to set. Gone.

But it isn’t the fault of an injury, or a technical error, or a bad day. There’s no _getting over_ this, no simple matter of shrugging off the fact that Yuzuru has five days left when he’s been thinking ahead in years. It’s not Yuzuru’s fault but it _is,_ because some competitions shouldn’t have been reduced to just warm ups, not thrown aside in favour for competitions where the world will truly be watching.

Yuzuru looks over at Shoma, who’s keeping all his game consoles in check. He’s not like that. He gets personal bests at competitions Yuzuru would be relaxed at, treats them all equally and not like a legacy that keeps weighing down on his shoulders with every fall, every medal and missed podium and world record and second place finish.

Shoma catches his glance and smiles, a little sad. “It’s weird. I kind of thought if I found out I was going to die in a few days I’d be more.. panicked. Upset maybe.” he laughs. “But I’m.. not?”

Yuzuru desperately wants to relate, wants to find even the slightest bit of humour in this situation, but he can’t. Not when his entire world seems to be crumbling beneath his feet. Not when he’s packing to go to a bunker that he won’t come out of again. A bunker without his family, only his mother and some of his fellow skaters and maybe the worst person to be around right now.

Yet when he’s finally turned to face Shoma and they’re getting ready to leave, Yuzuru feels a bitter sort of relief.

At least he doesn’t have to ask him on that date anymore.

* * *

 Approximately three seconds after Yuzuru steps into where he’s going to be staying for the remainder of his life, he decides he hates it.

It’s a glorified bunker; still lifeless and dull, but furnished with comfortable sofas and an uncomfortably neat kitchen, stocked with food that could last years instead of the days they have left. Or that could be given to so many other people. Those who weren’t lucky, privileged like Yuzuru and the others are. Those who might still be spending their time rushing through sold-out stores, trying to find anything for them or their families because they weren’t prepared for this.

And that’s what Yuzuru hates most.

He feels like he’s sixteen again, being whisked off into safer places and shielded from other people’s suffering. Protected from the public eye by the heavy guards outside a locked door, while the scenes of crowds clawing for scraps of food or families spending their last days together is broadcasted on the news and hailed as the latest sob story for the luckier ones to gasp and remark that they’re glad that isn’t them.

And the athletes get sympathy. A career ended too soon. Missed opportunities. But at least they get privacy, a shelter and safe space to spend their final days.

For what? There’s nothing left for them to contribute. They’re not special.

Yuzuru doesn’t deserve to feel bad about this. Doesn’t deserve to stay here while others suffer.

And he can’t let that happen again.

Abruptly, he stands from his spot on the sofa. Maybe someone’s talking, and maybe someone reaches out for him and questions his blank expression. But all he can think about is that he needs to get out of here.

Someone says something. But Yuzuru feels like he’s drowning, vision blurred and sounds fuzzy static. And when he feels a hand- unmistakably soft- gently brush against his arm, it sends an uncomfortable sting shooting through his body.

So he runs.

Runs from the concerned calls of his coaches and friends, runs past the guards at the entrace and shoves past them before they can fully lock the doors, runs from the cameras and reporters still lingering outside of the rink, runs from it all because he can’t deal with this _he can’t deal with this._

And when he stops after what feels like years and his legs burn, he doesn’t quite know if he can find his way back again.

But the sky is dark. And the night breeze makes him shiver without a jacket. And his stomach growls from the hours since he hasn’t ate.

Yuzuru sits on a bench that’s damp from rain, shivering and hungry with tears streaming down his cheeks, and this is what he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi!!!!!!! i am SO EXCITED to finally get this fic in the works!! this idea's been in my head for a while and i had writers block for a bit BUT IT'S HERE!! MY FIRST MULTICHAPTER ON THIS ACCOUNT!!  
> all my social media (tumblr, twitter, insta) is chopinseimei if you wanna talk!!


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